Five times Q rendered Bond speechless One time Bond knew what to say
by Flaming-Poison
Summary: A 5 and 1 fic about Q surprising Bond. Rated M for some chapters
1. 1

"You do realise I don't live at MI6, don't you? I do, in fact, have a social life. It is Friday night and I am just going out, so make it quick." Q stood in the doorway to his flat and waited for Bond to stop gawping. Q knew he looked completely different from how he did at work, but it was the start of the weekend and he was damn well going to enjoy it.

"Erm. Yes. M wanted me to drop this file off for you to look at before your weekly meeting on Monday morning. I'll just be, um, off then." Q raised an eyebrow at Bond. The man never stumbled over his words. He was usually well put together and well spoken. Q wished he'd got that on record. James Bond, world class smooth talker, was stumbling over his words. It was laughable really.

"Fine, fine. I'll be sure to look over it before Monday. Now kindly remove yourself from my doorway, I have places to be." As Q took a step forward, Bond took a few steps back, wary of the young Quartermaster. Q turned back from locking the door and an easy smile fell across his lips. "Goodnight 007."

Bond watched Q walk to the lift. He studied the way his black jeans fit his slim frame. He'd expected to find Q still wearing the clothes he'd been wearing at work that day, mug of Earl Grey in his hand and his laptop sitting on the sofa, awaiting his return. He certainly hadn't been expecting what had appeared.

Q had been wearing a fitted black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, black skinny jeans, black and white converse, a white tie and white braces. He'd removed his glasses and put in contacts, rimmed his eyes with a thin line of eyeliner, mussed his hair to a perfect level of messy that implied sex-hair and topped it with a white banded fedora. His left wrist was circled by a wide leather band with a watch face attached; his right wrist was circled by a wide studded leather band.

Bond had seen people dressed like this before but had never thought he'd find it as frustrating sexy as he did; and then he'd stumbled over her words like a fool. He had a problem.


	2. 2

Bond knocked at the door to Q's flat. Why M sent him to give files to Q on a Friday night he didn't know. Maybe because he had nothing else to do.

Q opened the door fresh from the shower, hair wet and dripping water over his bare chest, small towel wrapped around his waist and water still beading on his body. He cocked his head to the side at the sight of Bond.

"007. What can I do for you this week?" It had been two weeks since Bond had turned up just before he went out.

"Erm, ah." Bond coughed and looked away from Q for a moment. "A dossier from M, it's for the meeting on Monday, again." Bond looked nervous. Q just watched the agent's reaction, knowing the towel was sliding down his hips.

"I didn't realise you were M's errand boy, but thank you." Q looked Bond up and down, waiting to see if there was anything else. Bond just looked a little flustered and was looking around, anywhere but at Q. This made Q smile slightly, his mind already plotting.

"Ok then. Goodnight 007." Q turned around and just as he started closing the door, he slowly started sliding the towel off, the door clicking shut before the towel slid off totally. Q heard Bond mumbling about being stupid and being too old for these feelings and chuckled softly to himself. Oh yes, he could have some fun with this.


	3. 3

It was 11am when Bond got into Q-branch, and to his surprise, Q was not at his normal station at the front of the room. Bond was just about to leave when the door to Q's rarely used office opened and Tanner and Q exited, talking and smiling. Bond nodded to Tanner as he passed before turning his attention to his Quartermaster.

Q was wearing a very fitted slate-grey three-piece suit. The grey trousers fell in perfect lines from his slim hips to brush the tops of his shined black shoes. His suit jacket was tailored to fit his slender form brilliantly, along with the waistcoat underneath it, hugging his chest. His crisp white shirt was a stark contrast to the dark suit, and the French cuffs with silver emerald cufflinks raised the bar from smart to elegant. The moss-green tie Q wore made his eyes sparkle green behind his glasses.

Q watched Bond study his dress for a while, amusement glittering in his green eyes. To get Bond's attention, Q coughed, bringing Bond's attention to his face. Q noticed Bond try to speak three times, mouth opening and closing uselessly until he cleared his throat to try again.

"M said I was to report to you for equipment for my mission." Bond's eyes followed Q as he walked to his station at the head of the branch and pull a box from a desk draw. He examined the way Q's trousers hugged his legs and body as he bent, reprimanding himself quickly for thinking of a co-worker like that and reminding himself that Q was too young and probably not interested.

"Yes. There's your normal Walther in there along with a radio transmitter. There is also a GPS tracker-locater and a small decryption bug for the computer server. Please try to bring them back in one piece, and I realise there is little point ins saying it but it makes me feel better about sending you out with my expensive technology." Q handed Bond the box before turning away to study a screen behind him, code racing before his eyes. Bond took one last look at the back of his Quartermaster, all lean lines in an expensive suit, and shook his head. The image of the suit strewn across his floor was refusing to leave. Bond turned to leave when Q's voice stopped him.

"You'll be picked up from the roof by helicopter at 10am tomorrow; I'll be there to hand you you're earpiece before you leave." That was Bond's dismissal from Q-branch in a single sentence, without any words to the effect being said. Bond went home to prepare and get the image of Q's infuriatingly enticing form out of his head. A shower was in order.


End file.
